


Japan's Ace

by Haro



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 2017 World Figure Skating Championships, 2018 Winter Olympics, Fluff, Gen, Introspection, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-14 15:52:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16495694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haro/pseuds/Haro
Summary: Short fics based off of izzyisozaki's 'Yuuvember', a month long set of daily prompts in honor of Yuuri's birthday.Day #3“So,” he began, “when exactly did you realize that you didn’t ‘just admire me?’”Yuuri groaned. “Vogue Russia when you’d just turned eighteen.”





	1. Ace

**Author's Note:**

> These fics are based off of [izzyisozaki's prompts for a Yuuri themed November](https://twitter.com/izzyisozaki/status/1054067300020690946), since his birthday is the twenty-ninth. I thought I'd try to do a many as I can.
> 
> I decided to call the collection 'Japan's Ace' just because I like it, but incidentally, the first theme given was 'ace' so it's about exactly that.
> 
> I'll add any relevant tags, characters, etc. as the stories go on. 
> 
> Btw an update to _What the Water Gave Me_ will happen by the end of the weekend.

When Yuuri stands atop the podium at junior worlds, just eighteen years old and already being called the future of Japanese skating, he doesn’t fully comprehend the enormity of his accomplishment. He’s proud, of course; proud of putting down two clean skates and proud of the gleaming gold medal around his neck, but Victor Nikiforov won junior worlds at sixteen, and by seventeen he was already senior European champion. Victor won Olympic bronze at seventeen. Yuuri’s only accomplishment on the senior level by eighteen was a third place at Japanese nationals.

When Yuuri wins his first Japanese national title at twenty, he tells himself that if Oda hadn’t retired, there’s no way he’d be where he was. Oda had a whole cabinet of medals, whereas Yuuri had struggled since his senior debut, managing a few medals at challenger series events, only one medal on the grand prix circuit, and an unimpressive twelfth place finish at senior worlds the previous season.

By the time Yuuri manages to compete at his first Grand Prix Final, freshly twenty-three years old, he’s called Japan’s Ace. Japanese men’s skating is in the doldrums, Yuuri thinks, recalling the icons of years passed, if he’s their ace now. And after the Grand Prix Final, and after Yuuri finishes out of the top ten at Japanese nationals, what is normally his easiest competition of the year, he thinks it’s a joke that he was ever referred to as their ace, even at his best, even when he won silver at four continents and finished in the top five at worlds the previous season. If he could falter this badly, he may as well _retire already_ , as another, far more promising skater had told him.

He doesn't retire. The passion to skate burns deep within his core, and Yuuri can’t back down from a challenge, especially when the challenge takes the shape of his idol and his goal, Victor Nikiforov, telling him that he believes Yuuri has the talent to win.

When Yuuri stands on the second step of the podium in Barcelona, he wishes his medal was gold, but he is content with what he’s accomplished that evening. Japan’s ace broke Victor Nikiforov’s free skate world record; not anyone else, and he thought, I’ve worked hard, and I deserve this.

Japanese nationals after that is not a difficult competition for Yuuri, but instead of viewing his victory with a more cynical eye like he had in previous years, Yuuri treats it with the same respect he did every other competition he's competed in. Every skater here works their hardest, and none of them should be seen as ‘easy’ to beat, he tells himself. They look up to him, so in exchange, he would look up to them, treating competing against them as every bit as much of a challenge as competing at worlds, competing in the grand prix, competing at four continents.

When Yuuri stands atop the podium at senior worlds, twenty-four years old and already being considered one of the greatest skaters Japan has ever produced, he understands what he’s accomplished. He understands as he glances down at Victor Nikiforov, who looks as beautiful in silver as he ever did in gold, his smile overflowing with love and pride, toward _Yuuri_. He understands as his best friend looks up at him, resplendent in bronze, the first southeast Asian to ever medal at such a major event.

Being Japan’s ace was never about surpassing Victor Nikiforov; it wasn’t about winning every title and never faltering.

What being Japan’s ace means, Yuuri realizes, is not just winning medals for his home country, but being a beacon of inspiration and hope for those who would come after, as well as those who love skating as much as he does, even if they will never break one of Victor Nikiforov’s world records, never surpass their idol, and may never even compete on an international level.

He thinks back to his gold medal at junior worlds, now six years ago, and the faith and admiration he saw in the eyes of younger skaters toward him after that, and he thinks, they believed in him; he was their goal even back then, much as Victor had been a guidepost to Yuuri throughout his career.

And he’s skated. He’s continued to skate, and he’s never given up. Even when he was on the precipice of disaster, he’s clawed his way back out, because skating is his heart and his soul. He’s carried that torch, that love, even when it flickers, even when his feet were bleeding and his eyes were dry from too many tears. He’s pushed himself higher and higher, until finally here he is, on the top of the world, and nothing was going to stop him now. He’s only going to get better, he’s only going to win more, and he’s going to do that with the strength he’s gained from the fact that he has always been worthy.


	2. Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quick clarification; it's not that Victor doesn't medal in Pyeongchang, it's that in my personal headcanon he's retired before then and it attending as Yuuri's coach/fiance.
> 
> (And yeah it ended up with two 'Yuuri at the top of the podium' entries in a row, but the theme sort of called for it.)

In Pyeongchang, Yuuri was gold and glittering as he stood on the top step of the podium, but the gold that shone brightest may still have been the one on his right ring finger; its gleam a winning arrow connecting him to Victor, who helped bring him here, and who stood watching in the front row of the medals plaza, his eyes filled with tears and his own ring shining just as brilliantly. 

Dozens of other athletes would receive gold medals before the games were over, but Yuuri and Victor were the only ones who had each other.


	3. Idol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably takes place right after the GPF but before nationals, but the exact time is not terribly relevant outside of the 'not even been a year' line.

Nishigori Yuuko was a giggly drunk. Almost everything made her giggle, and when there was nothing to giggle at she made herself giggle, which on this evening she’d done by telling embarrassing stories about one of her long time friends, Katsuki Yuuri.

That Yuuri was there for this event was not coincidence. It was his family’s onsen they were drinking at. That Victor Nikiforov, the very subject of so many of Yuuri’s embarrassing stories, was also there, was just… well, it was the new normal.

Yuuri wasn’t ashamed of having Victor as his idol growing up. He’d never stopped looking up to him and seeing him as a goal, even now that he was his coach and fiance. But almost everyone was at least a little bit embarrassing about their teenage crushes, and Yuuri was no exception.

“He said for years, ‘stop it Yuu-chan, I just admire’ him,” Yuuko had said, “as if we didn’t all know he thought you were the most beautiful boy on earth.”

Victor hadn’t pressed for more details, preferring to just let Yuuko ramble and occasionally interjecting with ‘wow’ and asking Yuuri if it what she said was true, which Yuuri was certain he only did to see the blush on his face when he had little choice but to confirm it.

When they went to bed that evening, Yuuri knew the moment that Victor had trapped him as the little spoon, his arms tight around his waist and his lips just a breath away from his ear, that _now_   Victor was going to press for more details.

He considered feigning sleep, but he knew Victor wouldn’t fall for it.

“So Yuuri,” he began, "when exactly did you realize that you didn’t ‘just admire me?’”

Yuuri groaned. “Vogue Russia when you’d just turned eighteen, okay?”

“The photoshoot with the white skates?” Victor clarified. He nodded.  “I liked that one a lot too, but why it specifically?”

Yuuri went quiet. He was not going to say this out loud.

Victor pulled him back to his chest and pressed his lips to the crown of his head, murmuring a “Yuuuuuri” that was somehow both a whine and a demand.

“No.”

“Please?” Yuuri didn’t have to turn his head to know what Victor’s expression was; he could see it in his mind’s eye, the wide eyes, the slight wibble of the bottom lip; it was as hard to resist as Makkachin when she wanted treats.

He huffed and turned his head, hoping that Victor wouldn’t be able to see the red of his cheeks. “I ordered a copy of the magazine off eBay, and when it came in the mail Mari gave it to me. I guess when I opened it up to your spread, I just unthinkingly said ‘I want to marry him, Mari’, and she’s never let me live it down. Thank god she wasn’t here tonight, or you’d already know. But after that, I spent most of the rest of the evening in my bedroom thinking it over, and I came to accept the fact that I was… attracted to you.”

Yuuri expected Victor to laugh, and indeed, there was a short, quiet chuckle. But then Victor turned Yuuri around in his arms and stared down at him with a slight pout.

“What?”

“That’s not fair, Yuuri,” he said. “You’ve wanted to marry me for ten years? I’ve only had the privilege of wanting to marry you for one!”

Yuuri wrinkled his brow and frowned. “Wait, that’s your reaction to this? Also, it hasn’t even been a year.”

Victor grinned. “Yes it has.”

Yuuri’s eyes widened and his cheeks flushed again. “Are you implying that you wanted to marry me after the banquet?”

Victor pecked a kiss to the tip of his nose. “Darling, if you’d asked me _that night_ , I’m not sure I’d have had the will to turn you down.”

“Oh my god.” Yuuri put his palm to his face.

Victor pulled his hand away and brushed his fingers across his cheek. “I’ll just have to work hard on being your biggest fan to make up for all of those years.”

Yuuri shook his head and smiled fondly, his eyes shining with love and affection. “I think you’ve gotten a pretty good start.”


End file.
